


The Cafe Confessional

by helbrosi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Established Relationship, Food Issues, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-11 23:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19120312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helbrosi/pseuds/helbrosi
Summary: Set immediately after "Trapped in a Blue Haze" by MourningElegance, which I highly recommend you read before this. Draco has misgivings about what has happened and his response, and he goes to seek counsel from the most likely source willing to speak to him. (Nothing explicit happens here, tags are set to reference topics discussed.)





	The Cafe Confessional

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [trapped in a blue haze](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11678955) by [MourningElegance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MourningElegance/pseuds/MourningElegance). 



In the aftermath of the Desk Incident, as he took to calling it in his mind, Draco resolved to track down one of Potter’s friends and wheedle what information he could from them. He briefly mulled over the idea of Veritaserum but his conscience helpfully pointed out that may be a little too extreme. Besides, these are Harry’s friends and they love him enough to not immediately distrust Draco. Well, anymore.

He dismissed asking any of the Weasleys out of hand. Ron would most likely punch him, and he didn’t intend to start a row while Harry was still stressed. Granger seemed like the most level-headed option, so the morning after, once he had ensured Harry had eaten a breakfast, he sent an owl to her politely requesting a short meeting at her earliest convenience. Granger sent a response that arrived just as Draco was leaving the local Potions shop that politely informed him of her next free lunch hour and the café where she planned to snag a table. It was all very polite and civil, and it made Draco snort in amusement.

It had been three days since the Incident when he managed to locate Granger sitting in the fairly crowded café not far from the Ministry’s public entrance writing something into a tiny book. He’d had a suspicion the café was a Muggle one, but he decided not to hold that against the establishment for the sake of politeness. Granger’s table was tucked into a corner against the wall and a window, but there was an empty seat opposite her. He quickly pushed his way through the café’s crowd and approached her, sliding on his most polite smile and throwing up wordless privacy spell. 

“May I join you?” he asked, gesturing to the seat opposite her.

“Hello, Malfoy,” was all she said without looking up from her book. He mentally gave her credit for not starting. She must have seen him through the window before he entered.

“Pleasure, Granger,” he said primly and stood still, waiting.

She tilted her head up just enough to shoot him a look with a raised eyebrow.

He gestured at her book then the vacant chair, left hand resting on its back. When she rolled her eyes and gestured for him to sit, he very politely sat down and waited for her to be done.

“Drop the games, Draco,” she sighed after a moment, capping and setting her pen down. There was likely a spell on the book because as soon as Draco tried to peer closer at the words they obscured into unreadable scribbles of ink. Clever. “How may I be of service?” she asked.

Draco folded his hands in his lap to keep them from trembling and let the fake smile drop, his mouth taking on a firm set. “It’s about Harry.”

“Yes, I figured.” She picked up her teacup and takes a sip. “That’s usually the only reason you ever talk to any of us.”

Draco bowed his head once to concede the point. “I would have asked him but…”

“But he didn’t want to tell you, so you came to ask me?” she finished, raising an eyebrow.

He glared at her for a moment before she waved magnanimously at him to continue.

His eyes fell to her half-finished sandwich resting on the plate, collecting his thoughts. “He’s run himself ragged with this wretched case they have on.” He closed his eyes briefly and then met her steady gaze. “I found him fainted on a desk a few days ago when I came home from work. He said he couldn’t remember eating for two days.”

Her eyes widened and he saw her right-hand twitch underneath the table, likely throwing another silent privacy spell over them. “And he’s alright?” she replied breathlessly, setting down her teacup.

“Obviously, else I wouldn’t be here.” Draco frowned, leaning back into his seat. “You’re not surprised.”

Now it was Granger’s turn to squirm in her seat and drop her gaze. After a few moments of silence, she asked quietly, “How much has Harry told you about…about during the War?”

Draco furrowed his brow and leaned back in towards her. This was unexpected. “He only mentions things that the Prophet gets wrong. Said if we had any chance to be serious, we’d have to leave our past alone.”

Granger gave him a small but heartbreakingly gentle smile. “Harry’s a smart boy sometimes.” Then she took in a deep breath and leveled Draco with a serious look. “When we were on the run, supplies sometimes ran low. Food, especially. It was hard to be seen anywhere, and Harry didn’t want us to risk ourselves more than necessary.” She deflated slightly, her gaze falling to a spot on the table. “When it was over, Harry was kept busy – really busy – with the trials and the testimonies and hiding from the press. I started popping by his house every so often just to make sure he was alright. Then…” She paused.

Before he thought too much of it, Draco reached across the table and quickly squeezed her clenched hand, which had fallen from teacup. “Do you want me to go order something and give you a moment?”

Granger shook her head. “In a minute, if you’re hungry.” She took another fortifying breath. “Kreacher came to find me, distraught. Apparently, he found Harry fainted in one of the parlor rooms.”

Draco blinked, the scene he came home to flashing before his eyes and wondering briefly how terrified Kreacher was if he went to summon a Muggle-born, least of all Granger. “What then?”

“I went to Harry and managed to rouse him, but he refused to go to St. Mungo’s. I spent the next couple of days there with him, fending off meeting requests and making sure Harry ate regular meals. He promised me that it had only happened the once since the War, but that our time in hiding had apparently – brought up old issues.”

He swallowed the fear rising in his throat. “He said never feels hungry,” he confessed in a small voice.

Granger nodded, her eyes bright and flipped her hand around to hold Draco’s now trembling one. “He flat out refused to tell me anything more about it, so I left it. I got him a watch that was charmed to remind him about mealtimes, but I don’t think he wears it anymore.”

Draco shook his head. “Git probably hid it.” He dropped his head to consider their joined hands. “So, what you’re saying is–” he paused, “–this is an old issue.”

Granger squeezed his hand once more then let go, leaning back in her chair. “Older than the War, and likely older than our friendship.” Her eyes flicked to his and there was no way Draco could miss that meaningful glint. 

Older than Potter’s oldest friendship means before Hogwarts, before Harry entered the wizarding world.

Draco nodded once, clenching his fist decisively and ignoring the growing sense of hopelessness. He really did try his best to not sound bitter when he said, “So he has talked to you about his childhood.”

She sighed heavily, but Draco was almost certain the sentiment was not aimed at him. It sounded like a tired argument long since buried. “It’s not a competition,” she said, leaning forward and finishing the last of her tea. “Don’t pull that face at me. Look, we didn’t really talk about it,” Granger continued, swirling the dregs of her tea. “Harry and I bonded over growing up as Muggles, but that’s the only reason I know any more.”

“And would the Weasel?” Draco snaps before he can muster the self-restraint.

Granger set her teacup down and leveled such a flat glare at him that he distantly thinks she must have learned from Pansy. “Ron knows about as much as we do. He is Harry’s best friend. Beyond that,” the corner of her mouth quirked up a little, “do you ever think those two would discuss anything approaching feelings?”

Draco tried to imagine the two of them discuss anything serious, likely during a Quidditch game and only came up with a scene of flailing, awkward words, and minimal eye contact. He snorted.

“Precisely,” she said simply. She watches him for a moment, then says, “Can I ask you, learning about Harry’s childhood, what is it worth to you?”

He jolts. “What?”

“Even if I knew what happened in his childhood, which I don’t, what would that knowledge be worth to you?” She leaned closer, pressing the advantage. “Would you trade Harry’s trust for it? Because if I told you, Harry would never trust either of us again.”

Draco swallowed again, feeling his cheeks warm, the implicit comment of ‘Harry trusts you’ playing over and over in his mind. He dragged a hand down over his face and shot a glare at Granger. “That wasn’t fair.”

“Neither is what you really came here to ask me about,” she replied flatly, shrugging. “Which, I’d like to point out, you didn’t actually ask me anything.”

“I didn’t get a chance to, I was–”

“Telling me about something Harry likely decided I shouldn’t worry over,” she finished. “Good thing you didn’t ask your question, then, hmm?”

He exhaled sharply. “Don’t play a game of words around me, Granger,” he warned. “I’m not some tittering ninny, and I’m not so in the dark. I do know some of it. I know he was raised by Muggles, and that’s how he knows to clean and – and cook.” The name ‘Petunia’ rolled around in his mind unbidden, but didn’t share it.

She raised her hands placatingly. “I didn’t say you were either of those things.” She lowered her hands and sighed, a half smile on her face that doesn’t seem to reach all the way to her eyes. “Can I tell you something I think will help, instead?”

Draco waved her on and fell back against his chair, pulling his hands together in his lap once more and looking out the window. He distantly noted that it had started snowing lightly.

“We each do what we can,” she said, almost solemn. “Ron puts extra helpings onto Harry’s plate and always saves him a dessert. Molly never turns down his help with chores, even if he does it the Muggle way. I talk Muggle current events with him, and he knows when everyone else starts up about their wizarding childhoods, we can be the clueless people in the room together.”

He turned to meet her gaze then, and made sure he was really seeing her. Her smile was still there, and had now reached her eyes, but there was still something sad and pinched about them.

“He – he hasn’t told anyone else about the – this last incident, because the person he needs most to worry about him already knows. Whatever you’re doing, it’s what Harry wants. There’s nothing about you or your relationship that’s stopping him from talking – it’s because of him.”

Draco stared at her again, riveted to his seat and stunned into silence.

Her smile warmed as she watched him for a moment, then she took up her cup. “Seems I’m out of tea, so I’ll just pop up and get another one. Would you like anything?”

“Um, latte,” he mumbled mindlessly, unable to look away from her.

She nodded, then stepped away into the rest of the shop.

Draco found his gaze free again, but he just stared at the small table before him, thinking. He remembered the look of abject terror on Potter’s face pleading with Draco not to ask that night. It almost felt like relief when he promised himself to never be the cause of such a look.

More time must have passed then Draco realized, because suddenly Granger had stepped back to the table and set a to-go cup before him. She set down her own cup a moment later before seating herself and reaching for the sugar.

“I wasn’t sure what milk,” Granger started, not meeting his eyes, “so I went for skim. I hope that’s okay.”

Draco couldn’t care less what milk, but he took a sip just to have something to do. “It’s lovely, thanks,” he replied. He stared at the to-go cup a few beats longer, rubbing a thumb over the printed logo on the sleeve. “You know, he begged me not to ask him about it.”

Granger stilled. “Did you?” she asked, gently.

He shook his head. “Of course not. Wanted to, but I just,” he gestured helplessly, “sent him to bed with some sandwiches and undid all his alarm spells and even that weird little box on the table. And I did not ask.”

Granger set down her stirring spoon and waited.

Draco frowned at the to go cup in his hands. “Are you really telling me that’s all he needs?”

“No, I said it’s what he wants,” she corrected.

“And you think that, that what I do, what I did, is enough?”

“Oh, Draco,” she said, then she leaned forward to gently grasp the wrist of his left arm. 

He met her gaze, mouth tightening into a firm line again, wary of any pity.

Thankfully, Granger only smiled strangely at him and nodded, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

After a moment he returned her smile, but shifted and tugged his wrist out of her grasp. “Well, I’ll stop intruding on your lunch, Granger,” he said, beginning to stand.

“No interest in lunch, then?”

“Thank you, but not now.” He reached out and offered his right hand to shake, which she did a few times. “I’ll owe you a drink the next time I see you, alright?”

She huffed. “Drink and a proper meal, but next time.”

He nodded at her and began making his way out of the café, a plan already beginning to fall into place.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first published forray into this fandom, but it's not all I have. Unsure if there will be a full series to this, but I am currently working on something more. Please don't hesitate to point out any edits I may need to make or any additional tags that would be helpful to readers. Comments are very much appreciated!
> 
> Also, thank you to MourningElegance for their really well done work that inspired this. I've been wanting to really delve more into Harry's frankly awful childhood and see how he's dealt with some of that trauma.


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